


His to Adorn, to Cherish, & to Keep

by MaesMora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Begging, Blindfolds, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, HP Kinktober 2020, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Magical Tattoos, POV Draco Malfoy, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Service Top Harry Potter, Shibari, Spanking, Tattoo Artist Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27199777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaesMora/pseuds/MaesMora
Summary: Draco Malfoy is many things: calm, collected, in control. At least until Harry Potter gets his hands on him, and those aren't the only things Draco lets Harry put on his body...
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 24
Kudos: 371
Collections: HP Kinktober 2020





	His to Adorn, to Cherish, & to Keep

**Author's Note:**

> A heartfelt thank you to [eletriptan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eletriptan) for the quick beta and to [triggerlil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/triggerlil) for both the prompt and for hosting this fantastic collection of works!
> 
> HP Kinktober 2020 Prompt: Day 25 - Tattoos

Draco Malfoy was everything that his husband, Harry Potter, was not. Cool and collected where Harry was fiery and impulsive, neat as a pin while Harry was messy chaos personified, and most importantly, always dressed to the nines while the love of his life was more often than not sporting ripped jeans and t-shirts with a minimum of three holes in them at all times. The one thing they both shared was their love of tattoos. Harry’s were constantly on display. It came with his profession, after all. One usually didn’t stay ink-free for long when designing and applying wizarding tattoos to others for a living.

The thing most of the wizarding world didn’t know, however, was that underneath Draco’s impeccably tailored robes (and the occasional 3 piece designer Muggle suit) hid some of Harry’s most gorgeous works of art. Draco had volunteered to be his own personal canvas, and he guarded this secret jealously. Only their families and closest friends knew, and Draco preferred to keep it that way. He treasured each tattoo like they were a gift Harry had given him. In fact, most of them were. The dragon that curved along the right side of his ribcage was for his birthday one year, the spill of narcissus, pansies, lilies, and molly flowers across one shoulder on Mother’s Day to remind him of all the best mothers in both their lives, the constellation that bore his name forked through with lightning cradled in a crown of stag antlers sat directly over his heart was from their first dating anniversary, and quite a few more, besides.

His favorite (though he wouldn’t admit it aloud, not even on pain of death) was the one just above the swell of his arse that Harry had done for him in a _very_ private session only a few weeks before their wedding day. No one besides Harry would ever have the privilege of seeing that one, and Draco had had to beg for nearly a year before Harry had relented and permanently etched the words in his own untidy scrawl onto Draco’s skin, _Property of the Boy Who Lived._ They were prominently on display at that very moment, as it happened. 

Draco was currently draped over Harry’s lap, stark naked, hands tied rather artfully behind him with a length of black nylon rope specifically suited for the purpose. He was also blindfolded, though Harry had forgone the gag this time, he’d said, “because I want to hear all those pretty little noises I can wring out of you, love.” Just the memory was enough to make Draco shudder with want, though at the moment he had no need of a reminder when his bottom was still quivering slightly, the sensitive skin hot to the touch and bright red from the spanking Harry had just finished administering. 

The man in question was stroking along the lettering of the tattoo before he stopped, tapping it for emphasis as he growled out in a husky, demanding tone, “Who do you belong to, Draco? Say it for me.” It took Draco several seconds to gather enough wits to reply, but even then his voice was high and a bit frantic when he managed it.

“Y-you.. _uhhn!_ Merlin, Harry, you! Only you! _Please_...”

This was accompanied by a soft keening noise as Harry steadied him with one hand and slowly let the other trail down to slip between the globes of his arse, gently teasing his hole with the pad of his middle finger as Draco writhed against him helplessly. Draco lived for moments like this one, when he could just give over control, everything falling away except for Harry and how he could please him. Harry’s primary concern was Draco himself, and this always made warmth blossom in Draco’s chest when he saw the way Harry looked at him with such patient focus and tightly (sometimes barely) restrained desire. 

He could’ve seen it now if it weren’t for that pesky blindfold. He didn’t have much cause to complain, however, when he felt Harry pull his hand away to cast a wandless _Lubrico_ before bringing two slick fingers back to circle his rim torturously for a few moments. Just when Draco was about to snap, Harry preempted his outburst by plunging both fingers into him up to the first knuckle and slowly starting up a steady rhythm of pumping them in and out. Moaning softly, Draco arched into it, his cock stiff and aching, neglected for attention as it was. He heard Harry chuckle darkly before it was followed by the low rumble of his voice.

“You can moan all you want, sweetheart, but if you try to get yourself off by rubbing against my legs I’ll stop and leave you immobilized in full harness for a while instead.”

Swallowing nervously, Draco hastily stopped doing just that, shaking his head and clenching and unclenching his hands in a futile gesture as he pleaded mindlessly, “No, no, please! Fuck, Harry, don’t stop! Don’t- oh _bloody fuck!_ Do that again!”

The ‘that’ Draco was referring to was Harry finding his prostate and applying firm pressure with both fingers. He bucked, crying out hoarsely as Harry began to massage the area, fingers working him with the ease of long practice. It wasn’t long before Draco was reduced to tears, frantically begging for Harry to allow him to come. He couldn’t see it when his lover merely smiled and continued to rub, now milking Draco’s prostate steadily. When the muscles in Draco’s legs started to shake, Harry knew he was close, and Draco felt him lean close to murmur softly in his ear.

“You can come, darling. I want you to. Do it for me now, yeah? You’re so beautiful when you let go, Draco.”

And that was all it took for Draco to begin shaking apart in Harry’s arms. He screamed something that might’ve been Harry’s name but was mostly grateful relief as he came in messy spurts, coating his stomach and spattering Harry’s jeans as well. His body spasmed a few more times before he collapsed in a boneless heap in Harry’s lap, moaning weakly. Harry shushed him, murmuring a gentle cleaning spell to take care of them both before smoothing the hair away from Draco’s forehead and releasing his bindings with another simple spell.

He felt Harry shift him so that he was lying on the bed on his back before his husband started to carefully and thoroughly massage the feeling back into his arms, checking to make sure that blood flow was restored properly and that Draco was comfortable. When Harry seemed to be satisfied that no harm had been done, he removed the blindfold as well and bundled Draco up in a blanket and spooned him from behind. Draco sighed tiredly and snuggled back against him, reaching one hand out of the blanket to clutch at Harry’s arm slung around his middle. It suddenly occurred to him that Harry hadn’t come. Frowning, Draco turned his head so he could look back at him without shifting his position any further.

“Harry, you didn’t let me do anything for you. I want—”

But Draco was cut off by Harry’s head shake as the other man settled him down again and pressed gentle kisses along his temple before resting his cheek against Draco’s hair and playing with his fingers idly as he answered him.

“Hush, love. You’re tired. We have time,” Harry’s voice warmed with a hint of amusement as he continued, “You did plenty for me just now, believe me. You were perfect.”

Draco huffed but obediently quieted, relaxing against Harry and letting his eyes drift shut. He felt Harry’s thumb stroking idly against the delicate joint of his wrist, the other man’s breath stirring his hair slightly as he spoke.

“I’ll use your mouth later, hm? I know how much you like it when I do that. Just—” as he was saying it, Harry reached up to slide his fingers through Draco’s hair, gripping it tightly at the roots and tugging once sharply to emphasize his point, “—grab you like so and guide you right where I want you.”

A shudder of anticipation wracked Draco’s frame, but Harry was already loosening his grip and carding his fingers gently through his hair again, every now and then massaging Draco’s scalp with his fingertips. He sighed in contentment, limbs growing loose and heavy as sleep started to steal over him despite his wishes to the contrary. He managed to mumble part of a reply, his words fumbling and slowly dwindling entirely as he drifted off. 

“Mnn.. Harry, I wan-wanna give yo—”

And of course he missed Harry’s soft chuckle and the look of utter devotion he bestowed upon him as he whispered into the sudden quiet of their bedroom.

“There’ll be time, my love. We have all the time in the world.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, feel free to scream at me here in the comments, and/or say hi on [Tumblr!](https://mirimora.tumblr.com/)


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